


wandering in our heads

by dinomight



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, No Plot, Platonic Relationships, stargazing but platonic, vague mentions of molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 03:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16338998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinomight/pseuds/dinomight
Summary: She’s moments away from smacking her staff into a rock just to have something to do when someone taps her on the shoulder. The shock of it sends one hand flying out, ready to strike, and the other to her belt for her throwing stars, but the sight of blue stops Beau in her tracks.“It’s just me, silly,” Jester whispers with a giggle.(Or: Beau and Jester go stargazing.)





	wandering in our heads

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from @bramgreenfieldwrites on tumblr. Thank you for the ask!  
> Title from "Broken" by Patrick Watson.

 

 

Watch, Beau decides, is fucking boring.

They’re camped out in the middle of nowhere, some clearing off the road to Alfield. Caleb’s dark brown bubble blends into the tree line behind her, only obvious if one knew what they were looking for. It’s a nice night, not a cloud in the sky—but all of this just means that there isn’t a single fucking thing to do. And since she volunteered to do this watch alone, she couldn’t even entertain herself by bugging Fjord or Caleb.

She tries to stay observant, she really does, but there’s nothing out there but shadows. Her body is itching to move, to punch something, to crack a bone with her staff. All she needs is some asshole to give her an excuse. But until then: silence.

Silence that leaves her with nothing but her thoughts. Silence that fills her mind with red blood spilling onto snow, red eyes gone lifeless, red coat left to mark a grave. Silence that gives her no distraction from the deck of tarot cards burning a hole in her pocket. 

Silence, Beau decides, is fucking awful.

She’s moments away from smacking her staff into a rock just to have something to do when someone taps her on the shoulder. The shock of it sends one hand flying out, ready to strike, and the other to her belt for her throwing stars, but the sight of blue stops Beau in her tracks.

“It’s just me, silly,” Jester whispers with a giggle.

“What the fuck?” Beau hisses, trying not to be too loud, but her heart is practically pounding. Once the shock wears off, though, it doesn’t take Beau long to recognize that something’s wrong. Her eyes are rimmed with red, and the smile that’s practically a permanent part of Jester’s physical features is small and forced. “Jester? Why are you up?”

“Is there anything out there?” She says quietly, peering out into the darkness.

“No, but—“

“Ooo, then we should go stargazing! Come on, look at the sky, they’re so beautiful tonight! Beau, please?” Jester clutches at Beau’s hand, already trying to drag her towards the field. And even though she’s so tempted to say no, to make her tell her what’s wrong, the pure excitement on the other girl’s face is enough to make Beau give in.

“Fine, just—careful—“ Jester pulls her further into the clearing, not even trying to stay low or keep quiet. 

“Here, right here.” They make it about halfway through the clearing, still just in sight of the bubble, before Jester comes to a stop. She pats down the grass in a hurry, and once it’s flat enough to her liking, she lays down, wiggling until she seems to be comfortable. Beau watches with amusement, but she doesn’t wait long to join her, plopping down onto the grass so she’s head to head with Jester under the stars.

Jester, normally loud and talkative and cheerful, is unusually quiet. The only sounds come from the two girls’ breathing as they look up at the wide expanse of stars, some bright and large, others small, dim dots in the background. Still, the near silence doesn’t bother Beau as much as it did earlier; something about the reminder that her friend is here, safe, that maybe it was worth it, sets her mind at ease.

“Did you ever watch the stars when you were a kid, Beau?” Jester says after a few minutes, her voice still small and lacking its usual joyfulness. 

“Nah, not really. Never saw the point in it.” It’s a half-truth, she guesses. There’d been a time when the stars called to her, when her child self thought the idea of something  _ more _ out there was amazing. So amazing that she’d snuck into her father’s study at night to try and use his telescope. One broken lens and angry lecture later, Beau had quickly lost her interest.

“Really? I always wanted to. I used to look at them from my mama’s balcony, you know, when she wasn’t  _ entertaining _ someone.” The other girl giggles, but Beau can hear the edge of melancholy, the rare look past her joyful exterior. “But I never saw them like this until I—until I left Nicodranas. They’re so beautiful. I think I’m going to draw them like this, so I won’t forget.”

This moment is soft and fragile and thin like glass, and she wants more than anything to just keep listening to Jester talk about the sky and be  _ happy _ and  _ here _ . But she has never been good with breakable things, and it’s too late to start now. “Why are you awake, Jes?” 

A minute passes, and Beau is about to turn over and see if she fell asleep when she finally gets a response. “I had a bad dream.” She sniffs a little, still quiet and hesitant. “It was really bad, and I just thought it would help to be out here, you know? And it does. It’s okay now. I am okay now.”

The words turn over and over in Beau’s head until it hits her, what Jester is really talking about. It’s easy to forget the stars, she realizes, when you can no longer see them. When you’re inside a bubble, or trapped and surrounded by stone. It has to be terrifying to look at a ceiling and not be sure if you will ever see the freedom of the night sky again.

She wishes she knew what to say. Contrary to what everyone seems to think, she’s not always happy being like this. Sure, the bruises and blood and sarcasm that drip from her like venom could be fun, but they also keep everyone at arm’s length. And that works for her when she wants it to, but it means that moments like this are hard. They’re glass, and all she’s ever known how to do is break.

Then Jester sniffs again, and Beau thinks maybe, maybe it’s time to learn how to put things back together.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Jester,” she says slowly. They both know she’s not just talking about right now. “And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I’m sorry, too.”

“...for what?”

“I don’t know.”

There’s a brief pause before both of them are laughing, soft but genuine giggles that fill the air. Something rustles around a bit, and then Beau feels Jester’s warm hand slip into her own, squeezing.

“Beau, I’m very happy that we’re friends,” she whispers, and this time the sadness is gone and Jester sounds closer to  _ Jester _ .

Friends. Not exactly something Beau has experience with but—something she’s willing to work at. “I’m, uh. I’m happy about it, too.” Jester keeps laughing, and the stars above keep shining, and things feel not whole but starting to get there, maybe.

Friends, Beau decides, are nice.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed, and if you did, kudos/comments are greatly appreciated <3 Constructive criticism also welcome, just don't be an asshole about it please, lol.   
> You can find me on Tumblr @xhorass, my sideblog dedicated to Critical Role and all these chaotic dumbasses!


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